


Rest your weary head

by duesternis



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-08
Updated: 2021-02-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 05:01:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29290266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/duesternis/pseuds/duesternis
Summary: A last night spent together before they embark.
Relationships: William Heather/Solomon Tozer
Comments: 6
Kudos: 14
Collections: The Terror Rarepair Week 2021





	Rest your weary head

**Author's Note:**

> I used The Terror rare pair week prompt for Monday: "Greenhithe"
> 
> (god this is so short)

It was the last night before they were to set sail from Greenhithe and Tozer spent it indulging in one of his favourite pastimes: Chin perched on Heather’s chest he listened to him read from the newspapers.  
The paper crinkled over his shoulders as Heather turned the page and Tozer fished a piece of bread from the plate on the table and plucked the soft insides out, rolling them into balls before eating them.  
Heather read the society pages with his best impersonation of every uptight asshole they’d ever met.  
He was pretty spot on.  
Tozer laughed, kissed the breadth of Heather’s chest and made him abandon the newspapers with a well-placed gentle bite.

“Enough?”  
“Enough. Let me hold you, Bill, reckon there won’t be much of that on the ship.”  
Heather laughed, dropped the newspapers on the floor and ate the crust of the bread Tozer had gutted.  
Then he kissed him.

With an appreciative hum Tozer buried his hands in the stately muttonchops Heather had grown over the last weeks to “blend in with the sailors and save his cheeks from frostnip.”  
They emphasized the shape of his handsome face, and Tozer was all for that.  
Good for tugging on, too.  
Heather groaned into the kiss, hands on Tozer’s hips. Someone shouted out on the docks, wood creaking, water sloshing.

“There’s gonna be a whole lot of that.”  
“Water?”  
“Yeah.”  
Heather laughed and grabbed Tozer’s arse with both hands, pulling him up for better kissing angles.  
“We’re gonna be fine, Solomon. Up into the cold, find that damn canal or what not and then back home. You’re not gonna drown.”  
“If I fall in I expect you to come save me.”  
Tozer grinned, kissed Heather’s cheeks, his eyes.  
His smiling mouth.

“I will, promise. You’ll be safe.”  
“No doubt there.”  
They smiled, noses rubbing, hands leisurely kneading whatever flesh they touched.  
It was unhurried, comfortable.  
“Bill,” said Solomon softly, and Heather kissed him, before Tozer sat up. “Come on, let’s go to bed, we’ve an early start tomorrow.”

Heather sighed, stretched his arms over his head until his shoulders gave a soft popping sound. Then he sat up too, saluted smartly and pecked another kiss on Tozer’s lips.  
“Yes sir, right away sir.”  
“Prick.”  
Tozer gave Heather’s shoulder an affectionate slap and not long after they were curled around each other in bed.

“Here’s to a last night of not being rocked in the hammock.”  
“Hallelujah.”

Heather kissed the side of Tozer’s neck and settled there for the night, breath washing over Tozer’s pulse.  
Through the thin wall Tozer heard Hedges arguing with Hopcraft next door.  
He closed his eyes.

Greenhithe docks would be flooded with people come morning, Heather would hate it and then, a few weeks in the voyage, he’d probably wish to see that crowd again, just to see a few new faces.  
Well, as long as he didn't grow tired of Tozer's face, they'd be alright.  
Tozer grinned to himself and kissed Heather’s brow.

They were going to take care of each other, as they always did.

**Author's Note:**

> Me? Writing fluff? less likely than you think, but apparently not completely out of the question.
> 
> leave a comment, if you'd like.


End file.
